


drive you till you feel the daylight

by ninhursag



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alien Biology, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Filthy, Fuck Or Die, Idiots in Love, M/M, Maria and Alex are friends who love that alien idiot, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sex Pollen, V-poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninhursag/pseuds/ninhursag
Summary: Michael accidentally brews up some alien sex pollen in the lab. He's alone in his airstream, slowly coming apart bit by bit.And then Alex and Maria come to the rescue. And some more...This is some of the filthiest stuff I've ever written so enjoy!
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 26
Kudos: 90





	drive you till you feel the daylight

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for Malexa prompts on Tumblr and this gorgeous one of Michael being sex pollened and co-dommed came from maeglinthebold. 
> 
> Best prompt ever. Thank you!
> 
> Shout out to lambourn for Isobel and the milkshake haha

Michael didn't know what was going on himself at first. The Caulfield files had the formula for the elixir and it wasn't like they were making any other progress in the labs or with their powers. Max was still dead.

When he first tried it he figured it was inert or he did it wrong because nothing happened. "One more idea out," he told Ortecho.

"Self experimentation isn't exactly, smart, Mikey," she told him back, with an eye roll but she didn't object any further. She wanted Max back too. They both weren't exactly enforcing lab safety.

It wasn't until that night his temperature started to rise. And rise. Until he was turning off the heat, sweat soaked and stripping off his clothes even as the outside temperature was falling under freezing.

He didn't get sick, was the thing, he told himself. At first he didn't even call what was happening to him for a fever but his head ached and his skin itched.

But it wasn't a fever.

By morning the other parts of him began to rise up and take notice too. Like his dick. It wasn't that weird at first-- Michael was a guy, he got horny, he got morning wood. He hadn't figured it was a thing guys with major fevers still got but it wasn't like he didn't know how to deal with a hard cock slapping up against his belly.

He had a good right hand (and now a good left hand again) and knew how to slick up his palm with spit and strip his cock when he didn't have the time or energy for anything else.

Thing was, it didn't really help. Oh, he came. And came. And again until his body was sore, dick and balls painful to the touch, too hot.

Still hard. Didn't even twitch.

He tried everything he could think of, pressing his fingers into his hole, semen slicked from fucking his own fist and so good, rougher than Alex ever did it. It made him come, made him shake, but that was all it did.

And again. Until his face was wet and he was coming dry, until he fell asleep in the dirty AM. He was huddled in sweat and semen soaked sheets, fitful and hard, still arching into his fist and hoping like hell that aliens didn't get as fucked up over this long term erection shit as humans did.

He woke up less than an hour later, cock leaking pre and balls pulsing again, humping the mattress.

Vaguely, he thought of maybe getting up, putting something on other than boxers that were soaked to transparency. Hitting the Pony, maybe Maria would-- oh right. She was so far over him right now. The only person more over his ass was probably Alex Manes.

And just the thought of ass and Alex, Alex's ass, hot and muscled, moving so damn eagerly on Michael's dick, as wet as a girl because he was so slicked open with lube and spit and come, like they'd been fucking for hours and...

And fucking Christ, Maria. Getting in between her legs, licking her open, just tonguing out the taste of her, feeling her clit, hard and hot. Wiry press of hair under his palm where he pressed it into her mound, keeping her still while her hips moved under him and she...

And that just about made him cry and he possibly came again, wet and agonizing but it was all blurring, hard to know for sure.

He did not hear the door open. He half heard the hissed out curse, but it just seemed like part of his fantasy. Alex saying something shocked and low to Maria, her answering response of something like, "holy shit, yeah." And ooooh Alex and Maria at the same time?

Yeah, his filthiest thoughts had never taken him that far, they'd never do that, they were like… friends, whatever? Not pretend friends like he and Alex were, the real deal TV and high school bullshit. They weren't friends who knew each other because their dicks lined up right, because they dreamed about flesh and sweat in the dark. Alex didn't even like women, Maria didn't even--

"Guerin, fucking Christ," Alex hissed and there was a movement on Michael's thin, narrow mattress as he was urged over onto his side to be looked at. 

Alex's face was intent, set, dark eyes flashing, eyebrows straight with a wrinkle of concentration between them. His hair was messy and dark, like Michael's fingers had already been in it. A jacket over a t-shirt that clung just so to broad shoulders, ready to be stripped off him. Please.

And Alex's hands on his skin were ice cold, maybe from the outside air, maybe from Michael's fever, but he didn't flinch at the touch on his skin, he just made a humiliating whimper and melted like water. Into those hands, that touch, everytime. Everything.

Humiliation? What was that? Boxers wrapped around his ankles, tears and semen and sweat covered, his face must be--

"That's my name, Jesus Christ," he croaked, his voice destroyed, like he'd been sucking dick instead of sobbing and masterbating like an idiot.

He half heard Maria's chuckle and there she was, smiling briefly before her expression faded back to worry. She looked so gentle so perfect.

And then, maybe time passed, and Alex climbed over him, knees on either side of him. Michael barely had the chance to notice that he wasn't wearing pants and the prosthetic was off-- when had he taken it off? Because he could only feel the press of one leg, no unyielding material digging into his side..

He didn't know or ask how Alex was here, why, he just stared up at the reality of him. Solid and strong. Alex, who was so far over Michael's ass, Alex, who was fierce and cool handed and beautiful and putting his long fingers right there, on Michael's aching, burning skin.

And Michael made another noise and arched into the touch, into the body over his. Bare, wet cock pressed into the fabric of Alex's boxers. "I--" he managed, trying, with some unfathomable reserve of will to ask a question.

"Shhh, just let me, Guerin. Just relax now." And Alex shifted up, sweet pressure of the roll of his hips.

"How? How are you-- why?" What was left of his brain made him say. Where did this come from? How did anyone know? Why did they even… what?

Alex shook his head. "Doesn't matter now, Maria and me, we're gonna fuck it out of your system."

Mara and me… oh right, this was a sex dream? Ok that made sense. Michael moaned and let his body go as loose as it could. Maria had grabbed some equipment--condoms, lube, something suspiciously neon green and dick shaped like a-- oh, right. And was settling in to watch probably because there was no room on the narrow bed for three. 

"Please," he mumbled and Alex grinned down at him. And kissed him. 

Alex's kisses were hungry on their worst days, deep and ravenous, evening stubble burning his skin. Wet. Alex's hands tangled in his hair, clutching at sweaty knotted curls, pulling him in and in and in.

Michael's dick hurt, his body hurt from his feet to the burn of shoulders and neck, but this was so different from his own hands, the cold human body on him.

Alex rolled a condom on him and he came. Just that, whimpering and lost, from those hands pulling latex on his dick. Just from that voice, the pressure on his thighs. He was crying again, his face was wet.

There was a murmured voice, Maria's, another condom. Another try. He lost time again. Alex's body, vice tight, cold, cold, slowly sinking over and over and down around him. He screamed, head shaking.

This time he lasted, lasted until Alex shifted him on his side, sliding off him. Alex's dick was hard too, sweet and hard and leaking, he could taste it, he could smell it, he reached out for it but Alex whispered, "later, I need to save my energy, obviously going to need it."

Maria was on him before he had the chance to miss touch. Like Alex she was still wearing a shirt. A skirt too, long and billowy, easy enough to hike up but to still hide her body from view.

"Maria," Michael groaned, reaching up, cupping his hands around her breasts, feeling the fabric, the way she wasn't wearing a bra and they were there, handful under cotton. He thumbed the nipples and she sighed.

"Come on, Guerin, you're taking me for a ride," she said. And she climbed up and up and up and oh.

She didn't have underwear on, and suddenly, he was surrounded by her, her skirt, her scent, over his face. Oh right, he was supposed to… she tasted good, clean flesh. Warmer now, in the closed in space between her thighs, the fabric around them. He licked her carefully, gentle and then harder, until he could taste her wetness, the slick drip of her arousal. He pressed in, mouthing her apart, tongue gliding over her labia, catching over wiry hairs and sucking on flesh.

Sweeter than Alex, without the force of dick parting his lips and taking him down. Its own kind of overpowering, owned by her body.

Her hips were moving before long, bucking up and down on his tongue, riding his mouth, his face. He wanted to get his fingers in her but he couldn't seem to move right and she-- and he-- his hips were moving too bucking, gasping as she got wetter, cursed him harder, ground down on him.

Michael was so lost, but not too lost to feel the hands on his cock, jerking him slow and easy, not that he needed it, he was still so hard, so so so… but those hands, those palms, his Alex getting him ready, he was so ready.

His face was a mess of tears and Maria's come when she slid down his body. Her slick wet cunt leaving a trail down his bare chest, catching against him, grinding down and clenching, until she was down and down and straddling his thighs, seated on his dick.

So wet he could almost feel it through the latex barrier. 

And Alex. Alex was right there too, leaning over him, strong and beautiful and wide eyed. All pupil, dilated. Adam's apple prominent in his throat, pink tongue out, red mouth, filling his vision while Maria took his cock. 

Alex cupped Michael's face in his hands and kissed him. The dirty, streaked mess of him. Gentle and careful, tongue out. Cleaning, touching, hungry and warm, over stubble and lips and cheeks and nose.

He came and he came and he was still crying and he couldn't stop.

It didn't stop. 

Alex fucked him next.

It was braced over his narrow counter by the sink, face pressed down. He'd gotten up-- needing to piss, to get some water, hadn't even made it all the way back to bed when his knees buckled with the need again. And Alex was on him like he knew. Space so narrow Alex could get to Michael, at Michael, with the wall for support. No crutch needed. 

Nothing to keep him standing but his own impeccable balance and Michael's body. Michael didn't know.

Michael's hands splayed out and clutching on to the slippery surface while Alex pressed inside him, wet and easy and sloppy. Even the sound of it was wet, the in and out jerk of hips. Alex's balls slapping on his skin.

He didn't really realize that Maria was the one holding Alex up, just a little, a human crutch, until he slipped back and she took his place. 

He was barely standing himself, mostly gone, when she pushed the dildo into him. Sealing him up and fucking him, slow and easy, in and out. Torturous, while Alex was sprawled out on the ground panting and threadbare.

Again and again, until Alex recovered and took over. Hot tongue down the length of Michael's spine, teeth in the back of his neck while he was slow fucked with a toy, his hips stuttering, cock pressed into fake wood.

Maria walked him back to bed eventually, still impaled on it, like the base of the dildo was a handle to guide him with.

Again. Again. Again.

At some point it must have eased.

They didn't fit on the bed, three grown adults, two of them big men. But they did it anyway, Alex and Maria both on top of him, sweaty and soaked and sated and ruined. He had one in each arm, Maria still in her clothes, Alex having found some boxers again. Himself naked and covered up with them.

Too tired to stay awake.

"How did you know?" he asked in the morning. It was a little shocking to realize it was real. But here they were, all three of them in his airstream. Maria wearing one of his clean t-shirts and boxers. Alex all in his clothes, his jeans hanging just a little loose on that ass.

Them drinking his cheap drip coffee, black, like this shit was normal and easy.

His body hurt, but in a good way. Sore and used beyond comprehension. Taken in a way he could carry with him for weeks if he was lucky.

"Let's just say Isobel caught psychic backlash from you," Maria said, grinning a little before she yawned.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, frowning.

Maria outright laughed. "She decided Alex's hair smelled good. Really good. Like, she needed to be all over him and his milkshake good."

Alex made a face that was only a little horrified. "I will never be able to look at the Crashdown straws the same way either. That was… yeah."

"So you guys just decided to come here?" Michael said, trying not to imagine that because his sister and… yeah no. "Together?"

"Liz went over your lab notes and figured out what you'd really made," Alex said. This time he looked serious. "You could have-- that could have killed you without an assist."

Michael had to laugh. "Shit. Dead of sex elixir. RIP. Thank you, then, for saving my ass. You, uh, didn't--"

"If you're about to say we didn't have to do that, you can fuck right off, Guerin," Maria spat, though she was still smiling into her coffee. "Your ass is ours for life now though."

Alex nodded along. "Believe it."

"I thought I fucked up your friendship," Michael said without thinking about it. He didn't even know they talked, after, after…

That got a scoff and a shared laugh as they looked at each other and then back at him. "We make too good of a team to break up over a boy. Even you, Michael Guerin."

Michael considered that. Paused, trying not to feel greedy. Needy. This was not anything he'd ever even hoped-- dreamed. "When you say my ass is yours," he began.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yeah, exactly," he said and grabbed Michael in for a hard, claiming kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on Tumblr @ninswhimsy. I take prompts ❤️


End file.
